Published on Jan 29, 2001
Few can deny the appeal of “Baker Street,” one of those hits of
the ’70s that we still hear from time to time, but hardly anyone
remembers who sang it. The author and singer of that
painstakingly-crafted pop/rock gem is none other than Gerry
Rafferty, the man who was also the voice and pen behind Stealers
Wheel and the also-instantly-recognizable “Stuck In The Middle With
You.”
“Baker Street” is rare among pop songs in that its most
memorable feature is not the chorus or even any words at all, but a
saxophone riff that is just so darned catchy that it doesn’t matter
how often (and that’s quite often) it is repeated throughout the
song. The tune also boasts a spine-chilling intro with some
beautiful, dense layers of percussion and something that sounds
vaguely like a flute setting the scene for the imminent saxophone
onslaught. And of course the words, though greatly overshadowed,
aren’t bad either – it’s a gripping story of a man who is lost
(emotionally, that is) in a big city, presumably London, and the
small talk of people who say they’re going to give up the city life
but never actually do.
But the album from which “Baker Street” hails, namely
City To City, is not the 40 minutes of filler surrounding a
one hit wonder that one might expect. The ’70s were a great, great,
decade for rock and roll, but were of course also the years of many
musical pitfalls. The most common ones, at least in my book, were
drums mixed so that sound like they were played under water,
attempts at making grand statements that sound just plain silly,
and excess of any type; ten minute solos, endless repetition, too
many instruments spoiling the broth, you name it.
The reason that
City To City is such a good record is that in spite of its
being recorded right smack in the middle of the most excessive part
of the ’70s, it avoids every single one of those pitfalls. Rafferty
is a fantastic songwriter and musical arranger. The record sounds
fresh, clear, and optimistic. “The Ark” leads off majestically with
some hip-sounding fiddle playing and a neo-Irish-folk-like melody.
Then the hits follow, first “Baker Street” and then “Right Down The
Line,” which is nearly as good. A light, almost latin beat is
combined with some cool, laid back singing and piano playing that
predates Billy Joel’s crooning phase by five years and was
undoubtedly an influence. The bridge of this song is some very
intelligent stuff too – just when the song is starting to get
predictable, a flourish of wild chord changes and harmonies
straight out of the Beatles songbook ensues (Rafferty even uses a
“more” and “before” rhyme and slightly fakes a Liverpool accent –
real cute), but manages to flow effortlessly back into the
verse.
But lest we think that Rafferty was acting as if the last decade
had never happened, the ’70s were here in full force on several
tracks. The good parts of the ’70s, that is. “Home And Dry” rides a
pulsing (almost, but not quite disco) rhythm and some angular jazzy
chords on a road to irresistibility. “Island” is a quaint,
tropical-sounding folk piece (written before Jimmy Buffett got big)
with some saxophone playing that is nearly as breathtaking as that
on “Baker Street.”
The real centerpiece of the album, though, is “Whatever’s
Written In Your Heart,” an epic sensitive-man breakup song that
can’t help but bring tears to your eyes. All through it, you expect
some thunderous drums and power chords to kick in, but Rafferty
shows remarkable restraint that some lesser hands of the ’70s (we
won’t mention any names) would not show in not permitting this song
to get drowned in overproduction. Instead, it retains its somber
feel, the cool, calming “heeeey / night and day” refrain only
pausing momentarily for some unexpected muted trumpet playing.
If there’s one criticism to make about
City To City, it’s only that it only fights off the common
’70s pitfalls most of the time, as opposed to all of the time. The
title track attempts to be folksy and organic but suffers from a
little too much going on. “Stealin’ Time” would hold its own on
most early Steely Dan albums were it not for the occasional sudden
rush of swirling musical layers (one can almost picture a video
with nine Gerry Rafferty faces moving around in circles). And
“Waiting For The Day,” the last track on the album, is great until
it stops for a tedious “water of life” bridge that only serves to
detract from the song’s momentum as a dramatic album-closer.
But hey, it was 1978, and the record did have to sell, so let’s
cut Rafferty some slack and appreciate
City To City for what it is – a beautiful, intelligent rock
and roll record that pleases everyone and offends no one.